All in All
by Aamon
Summary: The reports of my demise were greatly exaggerated...I just took a job at a library. I can see why some people would think I've died. Chapter 7 up after a LONG hiatus.
1. Four Little Words

Disclaimer: I don't own Constantine. I'm making no money from this. Don't bother suing me, I don't have anything but a laptop, and would rather kill three dozen lawyers than give it up. So don't try it.

Notes: Takes place seven months after the movie. I have no idea where this little ficlit came from, but I thought it's a nice enough one to post for my first ever post on FFnet.

Criticisms appreciated. Flames will get you a nasty return package. And if I made a mistake anywhere, just inform me of it; don't get all on my case for it.

Slightly updated from first posting. My thanks to Daydreamer731.

All in All

By Aamon

All in all, he could say that things had been going pretty good lately. First he earns redemption, consequently saving the world at the same time. Then he gets a new lease on life; despite the fact that it was the biggest fuck you Satan had ever given to anyone short of Eve, it was a good thing for him. And then, after all that, he begins the first real meaningful romantic relationship of his life.

Figures something would screw that up. All it took were four words.

"Could you say that again?" he asked Angela, not quite believing what she had just said, or rather had just asked him. Angels, Demons, even Papa Midnight he could figure out, but it looked as if Angela had just handed him one he just could not quite comprehend.

"I said, 'will you marry me?'" she asked again, leaning toward him. They were in one of the nicer Chinese Restaurants in town, one that just so happened to be run by a half-breed Angel who specialized in protection inscriptions, which were carved on just about everything in the restaurant, even the chopsticks. No Demon half-breed could set foot within half a mile of this place, which is why they chose to eat there most of the time. That, and they only charged Exorcists half price on Sundays.

He blinked a few times, still too stunned by the words to really think up anything good to say, except, "Isn't that my line?"

Angela raised one eyebrow, slowly, something that made her glare seem all the more intense.

"That depends on whether or not you'd ever have asked me," she said.

"Wow," he said, leaning back a little. "Never thought anyone would ever want to marry me." He looked away for a moment, then looked back with a questioning gaze. "You sure you want to marry me? Me? And remember who me _is_. Me is…_me_."

She smirked, another expression that seemed to change the tone of her eyes and lighten up her entire face. Sometimes he thought that her face glowed when she looked at him like that. "That's what I love about you Constantine."

"I don't follow." And he didn't. Not only could he not fathom why anyone would ever want to marry him, but he didn't understand what she meant.

"Do you love me?" she asked, her lower lip turned just a bit downward on one side, her sign of nervousness. His heart began to beat a little faster, a little harder without his understanding why.

"Yeah."

Her eyes narrowed again. "Care to say it romantically?"

"What qualifies as romantic?" he asked.

"Honesty," she said, a little anger radiating off her. Thought his mental shields were in place, mostly on account of the Angel half-breeds in the place, he could sense her clearly; and she him, he would guess. Despite their shields, since he helped her to See, they shared a connection.

"Well I do love you. That's about as honest as I can get," he said, feeling rather awkward all of a sudden. "Are you sure you want to marry _me_? I'm not…marriage material. Am I?"

She smiled at him again, and he got the feeling that if she hadn't already said 'that's what I love about you,' then this would be another time she'd say it.

She reached across the table and grasped his hand. "I love you too John."

He felt himself grinning before he realized that he was happy. Genuinely happy. He didn't remember being happy before…at least not like this. The last seven months had been wonderful, and he felt that he had been happy in that time. But right now, at this moment, he really felt happy.

"Will you marry me Angela?" he asked her. The look of surprise on her face was priceless. She honestly had not thought that he would ever ask her that question, even with prompting. It just wasn't something she'd ever expected from him. She knew his feelings for her well enough. It was hard to miss whenever they were together. The little glances and looks, their hands brushing as they walked side by side, the way his hand hovered over the small of her back when he opened a door for her. He had been doing that more and more lately.

"I believe I asked you first," she said with a stunning smile, the kind that made him giddy with anticipation. Of what he didn't have a clue, but he liked the feeling.

"And I believe you wanted me to ask. I think my question is my answer," he said with a playful grin. She was smiling and trying to glare at him at the same time, failing the glare more than the smile. He finally decided to take pity on her. "Yes."

"Yes." She said just after he had given his reply.

The rest of the restaurant had gone silent. No Angel half-breed had ever thought the day would come, even after recent events, when John Constantine would ever get engaged. Most of them thought it more likely that Satan would appear in a tutu and dance Swan Lake. But if a man could redeem himself, save the world, and get a second chance at life all at the same time, getting engaged seemed only a little bit more impossible. The impossible, it seemed, was John Constantine's true Specialty.


	2. Papa Midnight Strikes Again

Disclaimer: I don't own Constantine, and there is no way I'm selling my soul for it. But feel free to sell your soul and then give me Constantine.

And now for something…well, it is Constantine's world. Makes perfect sense to me.

Chapter 2

Besides Half-Breeds, John Constantine believed in Murphy and his ability to fuck everything up on a near constant basis, and his engagement afforded no reprieve from Murphy's wrath. Things got completely fucked up. Not because he and Angela were engaged, but because every half breed of both realms knew it…and so did Papa Midnight. How he found out so quickly was anyone's guess, but when they returned to his apartment after dinner they found a small package inscribed with Aramaic symbols and some of Papa's charms.

"Why am I scared every time he gives me something?" John said, opening the door and stepping over the package, reaching back to give Angels a hand over. "Don't look down at it when you walk over it."

She returned a quizzical look, but did as he said and kept her eyes on his as she stepped over. "What is it?"

"I really don't want to know," he said, grabbing a bottle of scotch and two glasses. Angela folded her arms.

"Enjoy _that_ while you can."

He grinned. "First smoking, now drinking?"

"I somehow doubt that Satan is going to give you a new liver," she shot at him. "And I'd like to grow old with you, not get widowed."

"You're the cop," he said, opening the freezer and pulling out some ice.

She pulled off her coat and sat down. "Maybe I won't be."

"Exorcists don't get paid much," he noted, dropping the ice in the drinks before sitting down beside her.

"So?"

"So bye bye SUV. That thing drinks more than I do," he said with a smirk quickly hidden behind his glass. She scrunched her nose a little at him before picking up the other drink. Generally she hated scotch, but the bottle was from Papa Midnight's bar. It was better than the real thing and had thrice the kick.

"So what is in the package?"

He shrugged. "I don't have a clue."

"Then open it."

He looked at his watch, then shook his head. "Not yet."

She huffed and went over to the door, grabbed the package, and set it before him. He stared up at her.

"You should be feeling a small itch on your right ankle in a few seconds," he said, standing and walking over to one of his cabinets. When he turned around Angela had already taken her shoe off.

"Booby-trap?

"Something like that," John said, and wet a handkerchief with holy water. He pressed it against Angela's ankle, then tied it on. "Come on, we need to get over to your place."

"Why? I didn't curse this place, did I?"

"You broke my bathtub," he said, pulling her to her feet. She wanted to ask what his bathtub had anything to do with whatever was happening to her, but knowing John he wasn't going to tell her till they got to her apartment.

It took half an hour to get to her apartment through all the traffic, which was unusually heavy for this time of night. John kept glancing over at her, and she kept shooting questioning glances back at him.

"Am I supposed to turn purple or blow up or something?" she finally asked as they neared her apartment.

"Nothing that nice," he said, parking on the curb. "They won't ticket you."

"Wanna bet?" she asked as they got out. She managed three steps before her leg started to go numb. "John…"

She almost cried out when he picked her up in his arms and carried her inside. The other people in the hallway gave them odd looks, except for an old lady who just smiled at them…she likely would have grinned happily at a car wreck.

Just as they got to her apartment, he felt his ankle start to itch. That shouldn't have happened. It wasn't like poison ivy. This was something that affected the soul…but their souls were linked. He had helped her See, and that left a link between them, between their souls. But it shouldn't have caused something like this to happen.

"So, do I need to be naked this time?" Angela asked as they got into the apartment and went to her bathroom.

"It's affecting me too," he said, the itching spreading.

"So we'll _both_ going to be naked in my tub?"

"I don't know. It'll require total submersion, and since we're linked…" he set her on the edge of the tub and started the water. He pulled out a vial of salt, once blessed salt water from the Red Sea. He poured it in and sloshed it around some, hoping it would be enough for them both.

"So we have to be in at the same time, submerged…John, this tub isn't that big."

"Lucky for us you're slender and I'm starved," he said, pulling his coat and shirt off. Angela was already removing her shirt when she gasped and grasped her legs.

"Don't stop," he said, pulling off his pants. She undid hers and he helped yank them off. The tub was almost filled now, and she rolled in, her skin stinging.

"It hurts…" she said as he got in as well. They would barely fit.

"Deep breath!" he said, and put as much of himself under as he could. She did the same, trying not to gasp as her entire body seemed to sting. She held onto him tightly as the pain grew worse, for she could feel his pain and he could feel hers. Their mental shields completely failed, and their minds touched as closely as they could, mingling to almost become one.

Then they were completely covered, the tub overflowing. The stinging was replaced with comforting warmth mingling with the urgent need to take a breath. They broke the surface at the same moment, shaking the water from their eyes before staring at each other, feeling the connection they had, more powerful than it had ever been.

"You know," he said, feeling relief and amusement, "I should have said yes that first time."

"Yes to what?" she asked, sensing some mischief.

"I should have had you take your cloths off," he smirked. She rolled her eyes before grabbing his head by the ears and pulling his lips to hers. She wasn't in the mood for talking or for jokes. She had John Constantine engaged to her, naked in her bath, and they had just survived something horrible yet again. She wanted him, and nothing else.

This was the best I could come up with. Too many sunny days kept me from my desk. Oh well. Comments welcome, and any specific suggestions on where to go from here would be helpful. I'm all dried up.

Oh, and as to Papa Midnight's little gift…I'll let you stew wondering what it is.

Laters

Aamon


	3. And Life Goes On

Disclaimer: Same as always. I own everything, but I lost the receipts.

Chapter 3

John Constantine generally had three sources of irritation. Satan, God, and Papa Midnight in that order. If Gabriel were still around, he was sure she…he…whatever…would tell him to look on the brighter side and find the deeper meaning behind his tribulations. If Chaz were still around, he'd just call him a playa and ask for details. The only real source of sage wisdom he could usually turn to now was the source of his latest irritation.

"You should open it before seeing him," Angela said.

"Stay out of my head when I'm brooding," he lightly scolded her. She flicked the sheet up over his head in retaliation.

"I couldn't stay out if I tried," she said, and rested her head on his shoulder once the sheet was removed. "What do you think is in that box?"

"I'm more worried about why he needed that hex on it," he replied.

"Ah, that…"

"First rule," he said as he sat up, "never open anything from Papa Midnight except at midnight."

"Rather cliché," she said, looking around for her nightgown.

"True," he said, getting up and walking out to the kitchen. Angela whistled as he went, since he didn't bother to put anything on. She decided to follow suit, since she didn't know where her nightgown was anyway.

"It's late John. Don't you think you could choose something better than coffee?" she asked as he pulled out a filter.

"This isn't for making coffee," he said, and folded the corners of the filter inward. Then he took several deep breaths and breathed into the filter while muttering something under his breath. Angela couldn't tell what he was saying, either with her ears or her link to him. Finally when he was finished he took the filter to a nearby window and placed it against the glass.

"And that does what?"

"Temporary branding. Acts like the holy water I have in my place, but only till the sun strikes it." He said as he turned around and wrapped his arms around her.

"And? Are you expecting something?" she asked, sighing as he tightened his told on her. She could be content with this for the rest of her life, no problem.

"I'm not expecting every evil little bastard to stay away. We put out a lot of energy, and that's bound to draw the curious."

"Then why are we standing naked before my biggest window?" she asked. He grinned, and she heard his chuckle in her mind as he guided her back to the bedroom.

In the morning, she just barely put the filer out before it lit her curtains on fire.

"Sorry about that," John said, this time actually making coffee.

"You're a real joy sometimes Constantine," she growled. The sudden heat from the flaming filter had cracked the pane of glass. Not completely, but very visible and quite annoying to look at.

"Still want me?" he asked rather casually.

_Of course I do. _

He looked up at her, a little surprised. That was the first time she had spoken directly to him, mind to mind. Not a sharing, but an actual directed communication. He could already talk to her, though he hadn't done much more than chuckle. Angela was becoming powerful very quickly.

They had a light breakfast, then she dropped him off at his apartment on her way to work. Being a cop was still useful, and the Captain knew of her association with Constantine. Anything unexplainable was routed to her, and no questions asked. The Los Angeles Police Department had washed its hands of the paranormal after finding someone twisted list a pretzel and half imbedded in metal.

John was glad that at least one of them had a job. He hadn't been gathering trinkets to sell to Papa or anyone else, which had cut into the meager savings he had. The Church had offered him a stipend, if he would become a Priest…which was the funniest damned thing he had ever heard. Father Constantine was about as bad as Papa Midnight, though not quite.

The mystery hexed package was still there on the table. He grabbed a piece of blessed silk and threw it over the package, then wrapped it up and set it out of the way before noticing his answering machine had three calls on it. He tapped the button while looking for a stick of gum.

_BEEP "Mr. Constantine, my name is Cole Dreadson. I have a unique problem which I've been told…is best left to your unique skills. Please give me a call at 555-4232. It doesn't come out in the daylight, so please get to me soon. Thank you."_

_BEEP "You have won a cruise to…"_ he skipped that one.

_BEEP "Mr. Constantine, it's Cole Dreadson again. I'm sorry, but I must speak with you soon. Strange things…stranger than normal things are following me. And I keep hearing this voice, like a laughing just behind me. It's what's following me. Please call me soon."_

John checked the time, and found the call to have been just a little before he got back. Picking up the phone, he dialed the number.

"Hello?" came a very nervous and strung out voice.

"This is John Constantine. You needed to speak to me?"

"Yes…thank God you called. It's not going away this time…"

"Start with physical description, then how long, and what it's doing now."

"Oh, right. Mottled skin, gangly with three eyes and…it's transparent. Every mirror I see it's there. It always went away when the sun came up, for the last month, but just today it's still here! I'm looking in the reflection of a car window and it's staring at me!"

"Can you get to a Church or shrine?"

"There's one near me…it says Saint Benedict's."

"I know that place. Go inside and don't look at anything with a reflection. I'll be there shortly."

"Thank you. I'll be the guy with the thick glasses. I'm kinda obvious."

"I'll be there soon," John said, and hung up before cursing, though not God's name. He had learned some lessons.

Quickly gathering what he needed, from his stores which were dwindling as quickly as his savings, he called a cab and headed over to St. Benedict's. It was a more or less run down little church, catering mainly to the poor who received more money than they gave. Larger churches supported it for the most part. It was run by one priest, three nuns, and maybe five volunteers.

But it had a strange feeling to it. Something familiar. As he got out of the cab, he felt a very familiar tingle go through him. Try as he might, he could not recall the eerie feeling.

_Are you alright?_

He smiled. _'This is better than a cell phone.'_

_Real funny Constantine. Now what is going on to make you this nervous?_

Funny, he hadn't noticed he was nervous.

'_Three eyed soul beas.'_

_That shouldn't make you nervous._

It didn't, but the other feeling did. _'Just a feeling about this place.'_

_Where?_

'_St. Benedict's.'_

There was along pause. _There was a murder in the east alley beside it just two nights ago._

'_I'll check that out first.'_

_Call me if you need me._

Now that felt good, knowing someone was waiting to help him if he needed it.

The alley was your standard brand, dark and damp with trash blown here and there. The church windows that faced it were either barred or boarded up, and a side door looked as if it hadn't been opened in years. There were still some rolls of yellow tape lying around, and a blood stain where the murder had taken place. He took a step in that direction, and froze.

In a puddle just beside him there was the soul beast, its three red eyes calmly staring into him.

"Shit."

Sorry for the short chapters, but ideas are slow in coming. Criticisms and suggests are _more_ that welcome. Oh, and take a guess what's in Papa Midnight's gift. Go on, guess.


	4. Soul Beasts

Chapter 4

The Soul Beast was unlike anything he had seen, but its eyes held the familiar glint of hellfire as he gazed at it, the eyes expanding and growing brighter.

He shook his head hard and shut his eyes, pulling out a set of sunglasses. He cracked a vial of holy water and wet the lenses, then put them on. The Soul Beast turned away, but its image was still in the water, taking the place of his reflection.

"The name's John Constantine. Remember it," he said, turning away and heading for the front of the Church. He took several steps before pausing, one foot held above a puddle of water. The Soul Beast was there, staring up at him. Glancing around, there were puddles everywhere, each and every one an open door. He was surrounded.

He had only a little holy water with him, not enough to purify every puddle in his way. He would have to find a way to deal with the creature, unless…

'_I need your help.'_

The reply was instantaneous. _What do you need?_

'_Holy water. Can you grab a jug from my apartment?'_

_Yes, but I'm on the other side of town._

Out of the corner of his eye he saw something move. It was one of the puddles…so this beast was breaking the rules too. Funny how often he attracted this kind of attention.

'_I'll hold out for as long as I can. When you get here, drive straight through the alley and don't look at any of the puddles.'_

_Alright. I'll be there as soon as I can._

But something told him that it wouldn't be soon enough. This was a trap.

Being a cop was very handy at times, especially with lights and sirens attached to her car. The fact that it was midmorning was fortunate as well. People were either already at work or not going anywhere yet, giving her mostly clear roads.

That John was asking her for help this quickly truly scared her. All of Hell wanted him, and wanted him badly. Before she had met him he had Chas to back him up. Now there was just her, and she still wasn't quite ready.

Just her. The thought hit her so hard that she almost struck another car, but veered away at the last moment. All she and John had right now were each other. For some reason that thought made her feel very small, and very nervous.

Driving up onto the sidewalk, she rushed into John's building and burst through his door, only to trip and almost fall on the cursed package that Papa Midnight had sent. It was lying next to a shelf which had cracked, spilling its contents everywhere, package included.

Inching away carefully, she suddenly had a very strong desire to open it. Shaking away the urge, she did grab a small towel, wrap the package up without actually touching it, and shoved into her pocket before picking up one of the jugs of holy water. It was surprisingly heavy, yet she managed to get it down to her car.

'_Waiting.'_ John thought to her.

_I'm on my way._ She assured him, feeling the panic within her begin to grow irrationally. Something was very wrong about this, though whether it was her own intuition that told her this, or John's, she couldn't quite tell.

The puddles had inched closer, and were on the verge of coalescing into one large puddle all around him…at which point he knew he would be done for. The three eyed Soul Beast calmly stared at him, knowing that it had him trapped. One puddle suddenly broke away and inched closer, the Beast almost grinning within it.

John grinned back, and flicked a drop of holy water into the puddle. A high pitched shriek deafened him as the Soul Beast rose up and away from the puddle, leaping into another and backing away, though not so far as to allow him an avenue of escape. Yet John had to smile at the shaken Soul Beast's panicked flight. It had just shown him how to deport it.

Pulling out a small bottle of salt, he sprinkled it in a circle around him, then flicked the salt at the Beast. It shrank back, every one of its little puddles inching away. The salt itself wouldn't keep the Soul Beast away for long, but it would buy him time. Next he pulled out a chain that had numerous small crucifixes on it. Tearing the chain apart, he set the crucifixes around him on the salt, one by one, and muttered an incantation. Next he pulled out his large crucifix, the same one that had adorned the Jesus Gun, as Angela had called it after their illustrious meeting. Large, gold, and adorned with gems, it was gaudy but it was blessed several times over, and would not loose its effectiveness when placed on unsanctified ground. He had carried it whenever he went out on a job, but hadn't used it for some time.

"Ok you son of a bitch…you want John Constantine. He's here."

The Soul Beast hissed at him, and suddenly there were twenty of them in pools around him, glaring at him in anxious expectation. One word rang through his mind.

Shit.

Angela heard, and slammed her foot down on the pedal, leaping onto a sidewalk and dodging people as she cut a tight corner, tearing off her right side mirror in the process. She was almost there, having caught a break with the traffic lights. But her panic was at a fever pitch as she caught sight of the Church.

A coldness swept through her as she came to the alley. John was standing amid several puddles that seemed to rise up around him, each with a demonic beast hunched within.

'_Grab the holy water and roll it to me. When it gets over the puddle, shoot it.'_

She nodded, and grabbed the large jug out of the back of her car. Setting it in place, she quickly rolled it toward him.

John looked toward it, and suddenly one of the beasts leapt at him, one hand outstretched to strike. He ducked, but felt a searing heat cut through his shirt into his back as the beast's claws raked his back. Another beast also leapt, bringing claws down onto his shoulder, also inflicting a searing heat.

John grunted and held the crucifix up over his head. One beast, who had leapt, tried to veer away, but its leg struck the holy instrument and it shattered into pieces, and those pieces became wisps of smoke that hung over him.

The jug had been rolled half way to him by then, but as it neared a puddle moved before it, and another and another, slapping it continuously and slowing it down. Angela ran for it, ready to kick it to give it speed.

'_Don't touch the water!' _John mentally cried out. Too late, a puddle lunged for her, which she deftly avoided by leaping onto the jug itself and jumping off it, clearing the puddle and the circle of salt. John caught her, dropping the crucifix to the ground just beyond the circle of salt. Water quickly circled it, though made no move to touch it.

The jug continued to roll toward them, but as if in slow motion as the water around them both began to rise again, higher this time in several flat sheets, the Soul Beasts within staring intently on their pray, their eyes glowing the very color of Hell itself as they tried to take the two most valued souls on Earth.

"Close your eyes," John said, reaching for a handkerchief and a lighter. He wrapped the cloth around his hand and waited, lighter in hand as he looked to the jug of holy water.

Angela suddenly saw through his eyes, through the safe glasses sprinkled with holy water. Pulling forth her gun, she took aim using John's eyes, and fired. The bullet struck the jug in its center, a stream of holy water flowing out suddenly into the water the Soul Beasts had possessed.

Another cry echoed as the water became purified, and all the Soul Beasts erupted up out of the water above him.

John grinned and lit the cloth, then sent a blast of pure light up at the Soul Beasts, vulnerable in his realm, weak from the holy water. Their cries pierced his ears and his soul, yet they did no damage as both he and Angela instinctively raised their mental shields, which were more powerful when reinforced by the other. An almost physical barrier of bluish white energy engulfed them as bits of the Soul Beasts fell around them, bursting into little puffs of smoke as they struck the holy water or the mental shield they had thrown up around themselves.

John had closed his eyes from the intensity of the light, and now cast the burnt cloth away before it could burn his skin. Angela's head rose and she looked around at the bits of bluish smoke that slowly rose toward the sky.

"Thanks," he said, letting his forehead fall against her shoulder. She set her gun down and wrapped her arms around him, feeling herself start to shake from the pent up emotions.

"From now on…we do this together," she whispered into his ear.

He chuckled and held her tight, then moved to stand up. As he stood, he heard a familiar voice, one that he had hoped never to hear again, but was so shocked to hear now that he scarcely believed that he had heard it.

"Hello my son," Gabriel said from just down the alleyway, dressed in priest's clothing. John stared for a total of ten seconds before cursing.

"Fuck me."

Tweaked a few things here and there in all the chapters, but I can't think of what to write next. No ideas since I last posted, so suggestions are welcome. Constantine is coming out on Tuesday, so hopefully a fix will give me inspiration. Till then.

Aamon.


	5. Father Gabriel?

Notes: I am _so_ sorry for not updating for so long, but I have had the worst dry streak of my life. It took seeing Constantine again to give me a few ideas. Maybe I'll even start writing longer chapters from now on…yeah right.

Comments and suggestions welcome. And about editing…I'll get to it. Just ignore any problems unless they're glaring. I mean, come on…what do you care more about? The story, or the grammar, spelling, punctuation, run-on sentences, mistyped words…we all know you want to know what's in the box. I'll trust you'll ignore the rest.

All in All

By

Aamon

"Fuck me!" Constantine swore, earning a reproving glare from the fallen Half-Breed.

"Now John, such language in front of a man of the cloth," Gabriel said with an exaggerated pout.

"A man? I always wondered," Constantine said.

"Well…a little more than that," Gabriel said, and motioned for them to follow him into the church.

"Is it safe?" Angela asked, still clinging to him. It was not lost on her how close she had come to loosing him.

"Safe enough. Even Gabriel wouldn't do anything in a church. Outside perhaps, but not inside," John said, removing his sunglasses and stuffing them in his pocket before wrapping an arm around her and leading her toward the door. "But just to be safe, take off the safety."

Her hand drifted to the gun, secure in its holster, making sure it was still there. Whether or not it would do any good was something she wasn't looking forward to discovering. She had shot too many. Whether at the behest of God or not, she had shot too many.

They followed Gabriel into the side entrance, which was heavily shaded and dirty from years of neglect. Overhead lights were all extinguished, but the hall quickly ended into the main body of the church. Though old and almost in disrepair, the church still had its stained glass windows and impressive frescos. Hand painted murals adorned the vaulted ceilings above. Several patrons sat quietly in the church, praying or sitting, or in the case of one man at the back, nervously fingering a rosary. He wore thick rimmed glasses and looked to have been through Hell.

"Mr. Dreadson I presume," John said when they neared.

"Mr. Constantine? Is it here? Can you see it anywhere?" the man looked around nervously, gazing at every reflecting surface.

"It's gone. It was waiting for me in the alleyway. It won't be bothering you again," John said, then turned to Gabriel. "You told him to call."

"I thought you would be the best to handle it," Gabriel said with a slight smile.

"How did it get here? I thought Mammon's influence was…dealt with."

Gabriel shook his head. "When Lucifer pulled Memmon back, he did nothing about the demons Memmon had blessed. It is only with his blessing that a low demon can cross over. I have no idea how many there are, but I'm sure they'll be coming after the both of you."

"What about you?" John asked with a half smile.

"John, come now…who do you think first taught men how to deport demons? I know tricks even you don't know. But, for the moment, I am forbidden to act on my knowledge. I can only point the way to others."

John laughed. "You're falling back on your old ways."

"It is my choice. I've learned, working here, that man's greatest adversary is life itself. It was something I couldn't see before," Gabriel said, and looked to Angela. "I hope we can be friends."

"Don't count on it," Angela said.

Gabriel smiled. "I can always hope. But in the mean time, Rome has sent some gifts," he said, pulling a key out with a small tag on it. "Down the hall we came in, last door on the left," he said, and tossed the key, which was on a rosary along with a cross, to John. "May God go with you."

John and Angela made to turn, but Dreadson stood. "Thank you. If there's ever anything you need, just contact me," he said, and fumbled for his card. He handed it to Angela, who took a glance at it.

"You're an assistant to the Mayor?" she asked.

"Yes…clerical, but we're old friend. Same neighborhood as kids," he said, still shaking somewhat. John tugged her lightly toward the hall. Once they were out of earshot, she leaned close to him. "I know him from somewhere…somewhere else."

"Anything else on him?" he asked. Though he didn't like to admit it, Angela was a more powerful psychic than he was, and much more sensitive to demons and half-breeds. She was still inexperienced, but she was learning. Being a cop and having to trust her gut made it a little easier to accept that what she thought was her gut was actually her senses.

"He seemed to still be nervous about something," she said as they went down the hallway to the last door on the left. It was a heavier door, iron with large round bolts. He unlocked the door and yanked it open.

"When Rome sends a gift…why can't it just be a check," he said, walking in. Angela followed, and stopped dead in her tracks. In the room were tables lined with crosses, ampules of water, glass cases with relics inside, and a host of things she couldn't identify. There were also books, many books lining the room.

"This is…amazing," she said as she exhaled a held breath. John was walking among the tables, studying what was there.

"I wonder how much Papa would give for some of this…"

"John!" Angela said warningly.

"About all some of this stuff is good for," John said, holding up a small vial. "St. Bridget's pinkie finger…yeah, that'll help," he said, and made to throw it over his shoulder. Angela's hand shot out and snatched it out of his grasp…and she nearly tugged his hand off his arm. There was a cord attached to the ampule which John had slipped over his wrist. Grinning down at her, she narrowed her eyes.

"I suppose you think that's terribly funny."

He shrugged. "You're cute when you're furious."

"I have a gun John," she said, matter-of-factly.

"I'm more interested in the cuffs."

She felt her face turn red, but more from having this embarrassing of a discussion in a church. No matter that they were surrounded by implements designed to send demons back to hell in the span of a humming bird's heartbeat, it just didn't feel right to talk about such a thing in a church.

John picked up on her musings, unwrapped the relic's cord from his wrist, and slipped it over her head. "You keep it."

"I thought you said it wouldn't do any good."

Shrugging, he turned to another table. There were six vials of Dragon's Breath, and plenty of blessed gold rounds for his Jesus Gun. Maybe this haul wouldn't be as worthless as he thought.

After picking a few items and loading them into her car, they locked the door securely and John etched some protective symbols into the frame around the door. They loaded up the SUV, and John caught site of the crucifix he had dropped before. He had forgotten all about it. Walking over to it, he realized something.

"Did you smell any sulfur?"

"What?" Angela called from the car, which was half way down the alley.

"_Did you smell any sulfur?"_

"_No, I didn't,"_ she thought to him.

"_Neither did I. Even in water, even vanquished like this, there should be sulfur. Something's wrong."_

He rushed back to the car and climbed in. Angela put it in drive and headed down the alley, her senses extending outward. Near the end of the alleyway there were several garbage bins. She hit the brakes before getting to them.

"What?" John asked, rubbing at his chest from where the strap had just dug in.

"We shouldn't go out this way," she said, feeling something wrong about the bins. She put the SUV in reverse and carefully made her way backwards and out to the street, then drove on several blocks at high speed before slowing.

"Mind telling me what that was about?" John asked.

"The bins at the end of the alleyway didn't feel right. There was something…something there. I don't know what it was though."

He nodded, his face grim and still as she drove on. He had felt nothing at the time. Was it nerves, or something waiting? By the time they reached his apartment, he hadn't come up with any answers.

"John, do you really want to keep this apartment?" Angela asked all of a sudden as they got out of the SUV.

"It isn't that bad."

"But you'll move into mine, right?" she asked, hopeful.

"Provided I can demon proof it, yeah. But we should keep this place for storage…and some of the things I have shouldn't be in your apartment."

She understood the meaning even without sensing the heavy weight those words had for him. He had lost two close friends, and for one, this place was all the remembrance he had.

Silently the items they had brought with them were taken inside, though John left three vials of holy water in the glove compartment. Once inside, Angela took off her coat and the box Papa Midnight had sent them fell out onto the floor.

"Geese, you brought that?"

"It felt right at the time," she said, glancing at her watch. "Not until midnight, right?"

"Right," he said, grabbing a piece of silk and using it to pick up the box. He set it on the counter, then turned toward his bathroom, shedding cloths as he went. Angela shook her head and picked up what he had dropped.

"I guess I'm not the only one who has a lot to learn," she said, dumping his cloths in the laundry basket she had gotten for him. It looked brand new, never used, and likely hadn't been. Then, on an impulse, she undressed and joined him in the shower. At least she hadn't broken that.

Ok, still short. I'll try to make the next one longer.

What's in the box? It doesn't take batteries and it isn't blue.


	6. What's in the Box

Trivia Question: From the movie, what object really doesn't fit in John Constantine's bathroom?

Winner gets a cookie.

All in All Chapter 6

By

Aamon

The last thing either of them expected, at three in the morning, was a call from Papa Midnight. Both of them being habitual night people, it wasn't all that difficult to get out of bed, though neither really wanted to leave each other's embrace.

"What do you suppose he wants?" Angela asked, glancing at the package still wrapped in silk on the counter.

"With him, who knows," he said, following her eyes. "Might as well bring it. I'd rather find out what it is before we open it."

"You and I both," she said as he opened the door for her. She grinned inwardly.

He caught her thoughts. "I'll be trained yet?" he said with an amused expression. "You know, the whole collar thing was never my gig. But I'd be willing to try anything," he said, wiggling his eyebrows."

"Down boy," she said with a crooked smirk.

Midnight's was busy as usual. Greenish-yellow and red eyes followed them as they walked through the noisy lounge. A faint rumble of growls followed in their wake as the demonic half-breeds contemplated what they would like to do to the two exorcists who denied them dominance on Earth. Yet the looks of the Angelic half-breeds were no friendlier. Perhaps they were blamed for Gabriel's fall, who knew?

The padded door, with its mismatched patch of darker leather, opened at their approach. The interior of Midnight's office was darker than it usually was, but Midnight looked exactly the same sitting behind his desk, a half finished meal before him and a cigar in his hand.

"Congratulations you two. It's always comforting seeing two souls come together, just the way they should," he said, motioning for them to come in. As they did John saw a familiar figure sitting in the corner of the room.

"Chaz…" he said as his one time apprentice stood up and walked over to them.

"Nice to see you again John," Chaz said with a grin, his eyes glowing faintly. Angela enveloped him in a hug.

"Come down for our wedding?" she asked him.

"Something like that," he said, and motioned them to some chairs. John took the chance to take his hand and shake it firmly.

"I missed you Chaz," John said, just now realizing how much he had missed his former apprentice.

"Me too John," he said. "Did you know there's no Chinese food in Heaven?"

"Time to sin again," John said glumly. Angela grabbed the front of his shirt and pulled him to his seat. Chaz watched with a look of pure delight.

"Left you in good hands at least," he said, taking a seat.

John sat, and pulled out the package. "Care to tell me what it is before I open it?"

Midnight smiled. "Part of the surprise is opening it to find out."

"We already had part of the surprise," Angela said glumly.

"My apologies," Midnight inclined his head. "It is a pair of rings, simple gold band, with markings on the inside band. They function somewhat like the Trinity Amulet, but do not inhibit the wearer's powers. I thought they would make good wedding rings."

"Balance out the window?" John asked, already knowing the answer.

"For the time being. Mammon is not taking his defeat idly, and his example has encouraged others. Even two powerful exorcists are not enough right now to deport all who are defying the balance," Midnight said, and looked to Chaz. John and Angela also turned toward him.

"There's a civil war in Hell," Chaz said simply.

"About damned time," John said with a wide smile.

Midnight shook his head. "This is not a good thing John. Satan plays by the rules, Mammon does not. He is flouting God's power worse than his father ever did. The bad news is that there are other ways to cross over, and he's looking for them. If he finds them there will be no way to stop him. Angels cannot cross over because of the vows they took."

"Half-breeds branded by Mammon are turning up everywhere. They're doing more than influence," Chaz said. "Somehow he's gained the power to weaken the boundary between the planes, but only for demons he brands and not himself. The weaker the demon, the easier it is for them to get through."

"It's Balthazar all over again," Angela said. John nodded in agreement.

"And let me guess," he turned to Chaz. "Both sides want the Spear?"

"Bingo," Chaz said. "The Spear can be used by Satan or Mammon to kill the other. That demon was sent to get you Angela, not you John."

"Because I hid the Spear," she said to herself.

"And that isn't all," Chaz said. "Jesus had a daughter with Mary Magdalene, and the bloodline survived, giving rise to psychics and those with the Gift of Sight. The both of you have such strong links because you both have the blood of God in you, and you're both distantly related."

"Hell of a thing to say to two people who are going to be married," John said. Midnight gruffly laughed, but managed to keep his smirk mostly hidden. "So what do we do?"

"Guard the Spear. At the moment it isn't in the best of places," Chaz said, looking to Midnight. John frowned at Angela.

"You gave it to Midnight?"

"He is neutral," she said. "And who would ever figure that I'd give it to him?"

_Damn near anyone_.

_Well _you_ didn't figure it out._

_Yeah, but I should have._

Midnight cleared his throat. "May we get in on this conversation?"

"Fight," John turned to Midnight. "It's a fight. Conversation is for after the make up sex."

"John!" Angela growled.

Chaz cleared his throat, hoping to forestall the rest of this argument before it got out of hand, or before these two had to find a quiet room somewhere. "It was safe enough here till now. Mammon doesn't have the power to affect this plane directly without the added power of God. Satan does. The Spear could tip the balance in his favor."

"And why would he need the help?" John asked, wondering why Satan couldn't just flick his tongue and make his son go away. After all, he had come up here to claim him. It showed that _he_ at least had more power than his son.

"Because most of Hell is behind Mammon," Midnight said. "Mammon isn't the only impatient one. Just about every lower demon is siding with Mammon."

"And it gets worse," Chaz said. "The Angels in Heaven are starting to argue as well. There are quite a few of them who agree with Gabriel's sentiments about man. Though they aren't prepared to go as far as Gabriel, they're starting to resent the presence of humans in their plane."

"And what does God think about all of this?" John asked Chaz straight.

Chaz shrugged. "I don't know. Being a half-breed doesn't mean I get that kind of privilege. All I can tell you is what I was told. So far the Balance hasn't been effected too greatly, but it will be. God hasn't done anything yet."

"And won't," John said. "He plays by the rules too."

"He has to John. God cannot contradict himself," Midnight said. "That is why he sent his son. That is why the bloodlines continue. That is why there are those like you and Angela." He said, mainly for Angela's benefit.

"That is why I'm waiting to hear what _we_ have to do," John said.

Midnight and Chaz both grinned, and Chaz reached over and took the package, opening it and withdrawing the small box with the two rings. He handed them to Midnight, who stood and motioned for John and Angela to stand as well.

The same thought occurred to the both at the same time. "We have to get married now?"

"It would make things easier," Midnight said. "And both of you safer. You two are the most powerful in the world. United, you will be even more powerful."

"I haven't even introduced John to my mother yet," Angela said to herself.

John smirked. "Might be a blessing."

"I still have the gun John."

"The cuffs too?" he asked with an almost eager expression.

Chaz cleared his throat. "Guys, please. This is your wedding."

"Are you the ring bearer or the flower girl?" John asked Chaz, noting the sparkly hair. What was it about Angelic half-breeds that made them look like border lined tarts, circa 1970's?

Midnight snapped his fingers, and the room brightened, revealing more incantations than John had ever seen in one place.

"Precautions. Nothing can interfere with this," Midnight explained, and raised his hands, chanting something in Latin softly enough that John couldn't quite make out what he was saying.

_This was not how I thought it would be_, Angela thought.

_We can have a full wedding later on. _

_I know, but it isn't quite the same._

Personally he was wondering what else the rings were going to do. The link he had with Angela was already very strong. What would happen to that link? Would it strengthen? Or would they share even more? They already had a part of each other's soul. How much more could there be?

Sorry again for the long hiatus, but life gets in the way sometimes. I also just didn't have any good ideas, and I'd rather wait for those ideas than write crap.

Aamon


	7. What Honeymoon?

Note: I'm alive, ALIVE!

All in all chapter 7

Aamon

'_This is corny.'_

_Shut up. This is our wedding and I will not let it be ruined,_ Angela thought back at him as Papa Midnight continued to chant. Behind them, Chaz had his eyes closed, focusing on what was being said, and what was happening between John and Angela that neither of them could see.

'_I will arrange a real wedding though. After this, I'll need to.'_

_We'll let my mother do it. She needs something happy to focus on right now._

'_Unless she decides she'll hate me. That should give her something to do for the rest of my life.'_

_Oh, she'll love you. It's my father who will hate you. _

"The rings?" Midnight said to Chaz, who stepped before John and Angela, handing them each a ring. Midnight then brought his hands together, arms straightened. "Speak what vows you wish to each other."

'_I'm going to hurt him for this.'_

_So am I._

John took a very deep breath, and turned to look into Angela's eyes. Suddenly, he knew what words to say.

"With this ring, I promise to love you and protect you, to forever be a part of you as you are a part of me, even beyond death and the next world," he said, not knowing where the simply yet very meaningful words came from. They brought a smile to his lips and Angela's as well.

"And with this ring, I promise to love you and be forever with you, part of you as you are part of me, forever," she said. Then they both slipped the rings on each other's fingers as Midnight continued to chant, pausing only when the rings were in place.

"Then as the Heavens are witness, these two souls shall forever be one, united in grace and protected by Christ, forever and beyond in the eyes of God and his, and all eyes thus to come," he said, bowing his head. "Amen."

The bar was quiet as everyone there, demonic, angelic, and human felt something go through them. Even the least apt among them recognized something powerful, subtle but far reaching. And something else beneath it, a command, and a warning. For those few ancient enough, they were all too familiar with something of this nature. Only once before had such a command been uttered.

For many others, it was discarded out of mind almost instantly, and lingered only briefly afterwards. Yet even those demonic halfbreeds who desired for all the universe to tear John Constantine apart with their bare hands felt a hesitation as he and Angela Dodson walked out of the bar, followed by the half breed Chaz. As great as their desire was to do harm, there was a temperance to their inclinations that they had never known before.

Of course, the imposing Papa Midnight trailing after them was also a reason for their sudden disinclination. Within this bar, within his house, his power could not be rivaled. Even if Satan himself came up for a drink, he could not challenge Papa Midnight in his own house.

"Are you sure you will not stay? It is safe here," Papa said.

"If Memmon can send demons to this plane, he'll find a way to get through you. Isn't that why we're taking this?" he patted his jacket where the Spear of Destiny resided, wrapped up in its cloth.

"He could not get through me John. Around perhaps," Papa admitted. "Nevertheless, my house is yours should you need it. Until the balance is restored, I am on your side."

"And likely beyond that, just for the fun," John smirked.

Papa grinned and turned to Angela. "I'm sure you can cure his thinking."

"I'll do my best. But he might be too far gone."

"Indeed," Papa bowed and went back inside.

"Think he'll make a good godfather?" John asked suddenly, Angela's cheeks tinting. "I mean, he has the voice for it."

_You really need to grow up Constantine._

_You really need to lighten up, Mrs. Constantine._

She smiled despite the impending argument…fight…er, something that they both had to get to. If Chaz wasn't there, they would get to it, but halfbreed or not, Chaz was still a kid. He'd have to go learn these kinds of things on his own.

"So, where to?" Chaz asked.

"I don't see a cab," John glanced around.

"Funny. He's funny, isn't he?" Chaz said, voice dripping with sarcasm.

"Endlessly," Angela rolled her eyes, then her expression grew more serious. "We should figure out where to put _it_."

"_It_ isn't going to be safe anywhere," John said, then looked to Chaz. "The rings shield our minds from peeping toms?"

"I can't even read your mind…not that I'd want to."

John nodded, looking at Chaz. Then he smirked. "Holy water."

"What?" Chaz and Angela said at the same time.

John just smiled. "I figured out where to put the spear."

An hour later and Angela was staring at the most important relic in history…in a plastic bag sitting at the bottom of a fish tank filled with holy water.

"We're going to hell for this," she said, a goldfish passing over the spear. The fish turned upside down and kept swimming.

"I don't think we'll even have to clean it," John said as he finished writing the last of the spells into the ceiling. On all sides the spear was protected by the most powerful wards he could personally use. Not that they'd work worth a damn if the demons could pass through the barrier between Earth and Hell.

"Maybe that Chinese restaurant would be a better place," Angela said, remembering all of the spells that literally covered every surface there.

"Do you want to know how much he'd charge in rent?" he asked her, and turned to Chaz. He was standing by the window, watching the street.

"Maybe he'd trade for a new attraction," she said. Now all the fish were swimming upside down.

"Doesn't fit the décor," John muttered, admitting privately that the fish tank didn't quite go with his décor either. His apartment didn't seem to go with itself, now that he thought of it. Maybe he should put up curtains…oh no, he did _not_ just think that!

_Wanna bet Constantine?_

_You're having your wicked way with my head._

_And I'm still sane. I guess we were made for each other,_ she smiled at him, suddenly wishing Chaz was elsewhere. They had just gotten married, and come Hell or Holy, she wanted a honeymoon.

"Chaz, I don't suppose you studied while you were…up there," John rolled his eyes skyward.

"Are you kidding?" the kid asked, disbelief written all over his face. "I probably know more than you do now."

John smirked. "Then go downstairs and see if there's anything in Beeman's old alcove that we can use."

Chaz seemed to deflate somewhat, and grudgingly trudged downstairs. As soon as the door was shut, Angela grabbed John by the front of his shirt and threw him onto the bed.

"Impatient, Mrs. Constantine?" he asked as she reached for his belt.

She didn't reply except with a lusty grin as she pulled his pants off before jumping on him, their lips frantically mashed against each other as they pulled and cloths. John flipped her over, ready to show her a few things she'd probably never even heard of before, when Angela suddenly froze, eyes wide in shock.

"What?" he asked, turning. A fish was hovering right over him, upside down, its wide eyes seemingly even wider than before.

"Now that we could sell," John muttered.

I regret to inform you all that reports of my demise were false, and that I am indeed alive. But in the time between my last update and now I have moved twice, am on my second job, and completely given up on any semblance of a love life. Any girls looking for a 26 year old guy who works at a library? I'm you're man!

I'll honestly try to update, but this chapter was just one that I began before and tried to finish. I have to get back into the story, and try to remember my original vision for it. Expect some changes in the coming weeks. And thank you all for the reviews you have given and will give. They are greatly appreciated.

Aamon


End file.
